Faces of the Past
by Tigereyes45
Summary: Ezekiel and Jacob are having a conversation to decide which knights of the round table they would be. Jenkins is asked for his opinion. Yet they could possibly had picked a better time. Instead they send him away to his thoughts, remembering times that use to consume his thoughts. On an unrelated note, Cassandra has a surprise for him.


"So Jenkins, which knight am I most like?" Ezekiel asks out of curiosity as he sat fiddling with something with his hands.

"Excuse me?" Jenkins says unsure if he had heard the boy correctly.

"You were one of the knights, from legends right? If you think about it maybe each of us reflect one of them, ya know? Just listen, I've been thinking. Flynn was basically Excalibur's best friend so he would be Arthur. Which makes Eve Guinevere. Cassandra is obsessed with magic so she is Merlin, but that leaves Jacob and I. Also I don't know the other knights. So who does? Well probably the bloke who lived with them."

Jenkins shakes his head in annoyance and decides to ignore Ezekiel. Who only took that as a challenge to continue and try to pester the older man. "It's a simple question Jenkins. Which knight am I?'

"You would be a knight when the sun rises in the west Ezekiel." Stone adds as he walks into the room from the hall that connect to Nessy's room. Jacob seems to go down that way often. Perhaps to visit the chupacabra that was down the hall, Jenkins wonders.

Jenkins returns to organizing his books.

"Hah, hah, very funny mate. I almost forgot to laugh." Jake opens his mouth to reply but Ezekiel presses on. "Think about it. We each are a little like the knights of the round table." Ezekiel insists. "Flynn is Arthur. Eve is Guinevere."

"Eve? A princess? I think you were hit a little too hard during training."

"Well she is dating Flynn, and when the storybook made us into new people she was the princess." Ezekiel reminds him. "I'm just saying we have an Arthur, a Gwen, and Cass is our Merlin."

Despite himself Jake ends up nodding in agreement. "Yeah I could see that."

Ezekiel hits Jacob's chest playfully. "Which makes us the knights. JEnkins is Galahad because duh, he is Galahad, but that leaves us with what like ten or fourteen knights left to choose from?"

"Depending on which text you are choosing from. In some there are only twelve or fourteen knights in total. Others there are as many as one hundred and fifty."

"Which is why I asked Jenkins. Come on Jenkins we wanna know." Ezekiel announces again.

Jenkins knots his eyebrows together as he tries to tune the younger boys out. He would not lie he had a habit of comparing the librarians to people he had known in his long years alive, but very rarely did he compare them to the knights he had spent his first years alive with. How long had it been since he had last visited the place King Arthur's grave had been? He was unsure.

He watches as the boys squabble and compare themselves to heroes long since dead. If he had to assign them knights then Ezekiel would be Percival. Percival was the one other youngest knight besides himself. Compassionate and dedicated the man also had a habit of flirting with the young maidens. They had both been young, both behaving rash and making decisions based upon their desires to be knights. Percival wanted to be honorable and live with the men of the world, having grown in the wild ignorant of such things with his mother. Galahad wanted to right the wrongs of his father. They both were sent on the quest for the grail.

He was a fool who took his time to learn his lessons, but he was pure. In a way Ezekiel was also pure. He was also young, foolish, and naive. At times his actions speak loudly as those Percival himself would take, but more often now than when they had first met. The library has changed the young man. Jenkins would not ignore the hand Ezekiel's fellow librarians and guardian had in it as well. He was young and still learning. He will grow. Unlike Percival Jenkin's hopes Ezekiel will have a chance to live and grow to an old age. The day he was named a librarian his chances dropped, just as Percival's had when he was knighted.

Stone was now waving a book in front of the young aussie's face now. He catches the names of Lancelot and Kay pass through his lips. Jacob was going on about some of the strongest and well known knights. Legends passed through stories in all forms. Yet it was chivalrous Gawain's face whose sometimes passes by in Jenkins' mind when he watches Jacob. The once, loyal friend to his father. A man whose stories have been presented in romances alongside Lancelot and Percival. Or legends of his strength and courtesy in adventures such as _Gawain and the Green Knight_. There were many sides to the great Gawain, and more often than not Jacob showed his many sides as well. Gawain was a good man who did what he thought was right, even when he challenged Lancelot after the man had killed his brothers. A challenge that led to his death and a grief overtook Lancelot to the extent that Galahad never saw his father suffer before.

"Come on! Bors of Ganis! Realy?" Jacob shouts as Ezekiel flips through the pages of the book Jacob just had.

"Yeah I mean look." Ezekiel shoves the book into Jacob's face. "Practically identical." He teases with a smug grin.

Jacob scoffs. "If anything I would be Lamorak." He snatches the book back from Ezekiel's hands. "You would be Tristan." The older man says snarkily.

"Who is that?" Ezekiel asks with a clueless face.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Jacob shouts and Jenkins decides to retreat back to his lab before the two remember they were originally bothering him instead of each other. Scooping up a few books and pages as he goes.

Once Jenkins was securely back in his lab he lays his research materials down on his only mostly clear desk. He looks around the laboratory to see if anything was out of place. Flynn and Miss Cillian rarely came into his lab and almost never when he was not here, but Flynn would do so if he felt it necessary and Cassandra eyes loved to pry and glean any information they can.

If he allows himself he can almost imagine Merlin next to him. Shuffling through the papers. Tossing beakers here and there. Using magic freely to make sure they landed where he met for them to. Magic was to Merlin not as swordsmanship was to any knight. No magic was to Merlin as breathing was to mortal men. In moments his lab would be replaced by the room Merlin too occupancy inside of the old west wing tower. Few ever visited him up there. Even fewer knew how he took to organizing his notes and which secret script he wrote them in.

He could hear Arthur and Guinevere's words as they cautioned the oldest man any of them had known then. They both openly showed their concern and their support. With everyone. The knights were Arthur's family. Both directly by blood and not. He could remember the days when instruments would play and they sat around at their own leisure. It was rare that all the knights were there together. Only a handful of times did the occasion occur. One such time was his favorite memory. One he refused to relive in fear that the current time would go by in a blur. There was a time ago. A century or so that the was still mourning them. Still reliving those days. Not really living, barely more than a ghost himself. That was when Judson offered him a place to rest. A home that was only suppose to give Jenkins a momentary roof after having met the former knight again on the streets of London. Their first meeting was with Merlin. Charlene giving Jenkins a suspicious glare as Judson and Merlin discussed things that were unknown to Galahad.

Yet when the time came Judson offered Jenkins a job. A purpose to distract him from the all consuming pass. He gave him the catalyst that allowed him to move forward and make new friends, allies, and especially enemies. Oh those nights in the clubs, the days by the river. Lunches spent sleeping off the nights before. Friends dragging him into disaster after disaster. Magic never really felt the same. Life was different and eventually he loved, lost, and lived again.

A knock upon his door calls his attention. "Jenkins. Will you please come out? We have a surprise for you." The sweet voice of Cassandra calls out from the other side. Jenkins leaves his work behind to crack the door open for the redheaded librarian.

"Yes Miss Cillian?" She carefully takes his hand within hers and pulls him out. He no longer hears bickering from the two young men. She opens his palm and places a small box, wrap in blue and green stripes with a deep blue bow on top. He look at her with questioning eyes. My brows furrow as her cute smile grows.

"I was not sure when your birthday was. I poked around in the books for a year of Galahad's birth. Hoping to maybe find a day attached to it. In a journal I found a very faded, hurriedly scrawled side note. If I did my math correctly and it was true that means your was last week. I hope you can take this late birthday gift."

Jenkins' heart warms. He gives her a slight bow with head as he cups the gift closer to his chest. Taking her hand back within his own he places a light kiss on her hand. "If it is a gift from you my lady how could I not accept it." He releases her and ignores the bright red blush filling her cheeks. "I have not celebrated my birthday in many years. Thank you Cassandra."

"No problem Mr. Jenkins. I just hope you like the gift as much as you seem to have liked the thought."

"I'm sure I will." He reassures her before bidding her a farewell and returning to her room.

His birthday? Maybe that was why there seems to be more ghost around than usual as of late. Carefully Jenkins sets the gift on the shelf in front of him. Firstly he unties the bow. Once that task is finished he sets it aside next to the gift itself. He did not want to rip the fabric that he was certain Cassandra had painstakingly tied it to near perfection. Reluctantly he rips the paper off of the gift to find there was a box underneath it all. He pops the lid off and lets it fall from his hands as he peers inside. He could not make out what all was inside of it so he carefully removes its contents. The first thing he pulls out is a pen with a note taped to it. 'I know you said to never believe that the pen is stronger than the sword, but this is a very good pen.' He chuckles at that and sets the pen in his pocket. He reaches back into the box to feel if there was any more. He feels once last object. Carefully he pulls it out as well. It was a sword only slightly larger the the pen itself. A note was taped to it as well. 'But since I know you to be one of the best knights around. Here is a sword for you just incase the pen fails'. He looks the gift over to see that it was a pen as well. Jenkins laughs and sets the empty box back upon the shelf. He chooses now was as good a time as any to return to his work, and a wonderful time to test out his new gifts.


End file.
